


Waves in the Ocean

by ApartmentGhost



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Controlling Behavior, Escape, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, My First Fanfic, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Pre-Canon, Running Away, Tags May Change, The Search Comics (Avatar), Ursa's relationship with Azula is complicated and not fully fixed within this fic, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, because if Ozai is a horrible parent he is also a horrible husband, but Ursa says screw that and leaves, but not the main focus and not until the end, domestic abuse, excessive internal monologuing, unless you count flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApartmentGhost/pseuds/ApartmentGhost
Summary: Ursa, upon learning about Ozai's plans to steal the throne from Iroh after his son's death, and offering him an alternative route to the throne, leaves the palace, but she doesn't leave alone. If Ozai would even consider killing his son now, then her children definitely aren't safe without her here.AU where Ursa takes her children with her when she leaves the palace.Draws heavily from information revealed in The Search comics, so spoilers for that, even though I'm messing up the comic's events with my changes.
Relationships: Azula & Ursa (Avatar), Noren/Ursa (Avatar), Ursa & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 266





	1. In which Ursa does something she should have done a long time ago

**Author's Note:**

> I had no plans to ever write fanfiction, but then I had an idea and a 12 hour car ride with nothing better to do than outline this story in my phone's notes app, so here we are.
> 
> Since I'm new here, if I need to make any changes or additions in regards to ratings/tags/trigger warnings, let me know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ursa strikes a deal and leaves with more than she had bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pulling details about this event from what was include in the show, which I've gone back to reference several times now, and the comics, which I read a while back but don't have with me currently. If something's different, it's either because needed it to be different for this AU to work, or because I forgot what canonically happened. Good luck figuring out which it is.

When she walked in to find Zuko upset in his room that day, she was sure that this was just another case of Azula spouting whatever nonsense she thought would most torment her brother.

When she confronted her daughter and demanded to know what she had overheard, she was sure that Azula had misunderstood the conversation, filling in the gaps she had missed in the way that a (vengeful, spiteful) child's mind would and exaggerating the situation.

But tensions were high in the palace. There was a disquiet in the air that had only grown since their impromptu family meeting. And Ursa knew she wouldn't be able to quell the growing pit in her stomach until she knew for sure that her husband wouldn't follow through on the ultimatum the Fire Lord had issued. 

One look at his eyes told her that he would. 

* * *

Ozai was an ambitious man. A calculating man. A cold and cruel and relentless man. When she first arrived at the palace, Ursa had been surprised to find out that the man who was to become her husband was only second in line, not the crown prince. She was plucked from her life because of the supposed strength of their combined bloodlines, and yet, their children would never see the throne, barring anything tragic.

Anything tragic. Ha.

Had she known her new husband then the way she knows him now, she wouldn't have been confused. One way or another, Ozai was always destined for the throne, even if he had to claw his way to that destiny himself. The death of his nephew, the absence of his brother; these were just opportunities to exploit as he executed his grand plan.

She grieved for Lu Ten, her bright faced nephew who had snuck her extra desserts during parties, who let her son tag along on his adventures despite their age gap, who lost his life in the war that had started long before he was born and would likely continue for long after his death. 

She grieved for Iroh, who was the one spot of hope she'd found in this dysfunctional family. While she never had the chance to meet his wife, from the way he talked about her, he had loved her dearly. And he had doted on his son, never to busy to spend time with him, never a cruel word on his tongue against him. She'd be jealous, if it weren't for the way he had brought her into that little fold of happiness with a cup of warm tea on the worst days. As of now, not one but both members of his happy little family had been ripped from him. She didn't blame him for needing some time away. 

She wasn't sure Ozai knew how to grieve. People who grieved didn't view the mourning period as an opportunity to snatch power. People who grieved didn't exchange their own flesh and blood for a grab at the throne. 

Iroh had just lost his son to tragedy. If she didn't act soon, she would lose hers to ambition. 

Ozai treated his family like pieces on a pai sho board. Sometimes you have to sacrifice some pieces to win the game. If the cost of the throne he had so long wanted was the life of the child he'd already so much as cast aside, then he would make that move without a second thought. That loss wouldn't change his plans, it wouldn't break his strategy. He had another heir in place, and another child whose safety he could use to ensure Ursa's obedience. 

Ursa had never liked pai sho. But she had spent enough time drinking tea with Iroh that she knew how to play it. And she had a few moves of her own she could still use.

 _I can get you the throne,_ she offered, swapping Zuko's tile for Azulon's, bargaining his death for her son's life.

 _Only if you are cleared from the board as well_ , he countered, demanding she leave once the deed was done.

She wasn't surprised. That's why she had held onto this secret for so long. This was a move that could only be pulled once. He couldn't let her stay, not now that he knew she had the means to take him out just as easily. 

He accepted her offer. She got to work.

* * *

The poison was colorless, tasteless, and unnervingly easy to make, should one know how. It was one of the few mixes she still remembered perfectly, even all these years after her mother taught her. It was the one she made sure she didn't forget. 

In her first few years at the palace, Ursa had sometimes fantasized about doing the very thing she was doing now, but slipping the end product into someone else's drink instead. In this moment, she almost wished she had. There were multiple reasons she hadn't: reluctance to actually take someone's life, for one; for another, the realization that even if her husband died, she was too entrenched in the royal family to just up and return to her childhood home as if nothing had changed. But the primary reason she had forgone slipping this poison into her husband's drink for over a decade was that she feared him. She had feared him from the day he walked into her parents' shop to rip her away from the life (and the people) she loved. Ozai was well versed in the art of wielding fear. He knew her fear, and had used it to control her, to keep her in line, to keep her from ever trying anything against him. Though she hated to admit it, the main reason she had not mixed the poison she now made before was because she was afraid that somehow, no matter how well she planned and how secret her skills, should she ever try to do something against him, that he would somehow be able to predict what she was going to do and stop her. She was afraid that if she somehow succeeded, he would still find some way to exact revenge, even if she was gone, even if he was dead.

She was afraid now. But Ursa wouldn't let that fear stop her this time. 

* * *

She handed the vial off to the soon-to-be Fire Lord, then left without saying another word. 

She handed off a different vial to one of the kitchen staff she stopped in the hall. This one, she did speak to, briefly.

"I think Azula's coming down with a cold. Can you slip this into her supper, you know how nasty she gets when she's not feeling well."

The servant did, indeed, know how nasty Azula could get, sick or not.

"And could you let the guards on duty tonight know not to bother me if I'm out in the garden late tonight," she added after a pause. "With everything going on right now"—her voice choked, and the tears in her eyes were only partially for show—"I need a little time to myself, uninterrupted."

The servant placed a hesitant, but comforting hand onto Ursa's arm. The loss of the prince had hit everyone in the palace hard.

With a nod, the servant assured Ursa that it would be done.

Her pieces were in place, including some she hadn't shown her husband. Ursa continued to her chambers. She needed to pack. 

* * *

Zuko woke to his mother shaking his shoulders.

"What's—" She put a finger to his lips, silencing his questions. 

"We need to go," she said, voice low as she helped him sit up. 

He was groggy, not quite awake enough to comprehend what was going on, but compelled by the urgency in his mother's voice. With a few more whispered words, she instructed him to get up, to put on his shoes, to stay quiet, as she grabbed items from around the room and put them in the bag slung across her shoulder. 

His mother held his hand as she led him into the hall and down to his sister's room. Her hands were cold.

* * *

Ursa's first thought as she picked up her sleeping daughter was how _big_ she'd gotten. It wouldn't be much longer before she would be too big to carry at all. Not that Azula had allowed herself to be held like this in a long while. Not like Zuko, who had always come running to her room when nightmares or his sister's taunts had left him upset. Ursa remembered the day she had to start walking the boy, groggy and clinging to her hand, back to his own room instead of scooping him up in her arms after he fell asleep. But Azula, for all her force of personality and prodigious skill, was still younger and smaller than her brother. And Ursa had spent enough time hauling supplies and rigging stage equipment in her life before this that she had grown up strong. Palace life hadn't softened her that much yet.

Azula groaned in her sleep as she was moved, before nestling her head against her mother's shoulder, still oblivious to the world. Zuko just watched, anxiety replacing the grogginess in his eyes. Ursa swept the small pile of belongings from the bedside table into her bag, adjusted her daughter's weight on her hip, and left the room. 

* * *

Zuko clung to his mother's sleeve, silent as they moved. She still hadn't told him what was going on, but he seemed to instinctively realize that they needed to remain unseen. He was good at navigating the halls of the palace, guiding his mother around loose floorboards she hadn't noticed, and pulling him into side passages that she didn't know about whenever they heard footsteps. Ursa now had a better understanding of why the servants so often complained they couldn't find the little prince. The thought of how and why he had learned to move through the palace unnoticed ate at her, but she pushed it aside. She was getting her babies away from this place. Her son wouldn't have to sneak around much longer. 

They entered the courtyard. They'd managed to avoid crossing anyone's path inside, but now that they were outside, they were a lot more exposed. Ursa tried to keep calm, tried to walk casually. She'd avoided people inside because she hadn't wanted to answer any unnecessary questions, but technically, she wasn't doing anything wrong, at least as far as any staff would be aware. That's what she told herself. She was allowed to walk around. Heck, the guards even knew she would be in the garden tonight, and they wouldn't disturb her; at least, they wouldn't if her instructions had been followed, which given how soundly Azula was asleep right now, they had been. She watched as at that moment a guard spotted her from the upper wall. He nodded in acknowledgement before continuing on his route. Ursa let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. 

It was a normal night. A nice night, and she was taking a walk in the garden with her children. That was a thing she was allowed to do. That was a thing she had done before, although, granted, Zuko accompanied her a lot more often than Azula did. If Ozai was smart, then no one but the two of them had any idea that anything out of the ordinary was going on tonight. And on the slight chance that Ozai had told them anything, then they should also know to let her leave.

She had not discussed the children leaving with her. 

For all her worries, though, they made it out of the palace walls surprisingly easily. She waited until the guards' pacing took them to a far corner, and slipped out of a side gate that was built more to keep people out than to keep people in. They hurried until they were far enough away to duck out of view of the palace wall, at which point she pulled out a set of cloaks. One she passed to Zuko, the other she slung awkwardly around both herself and Azula with the freer of her two hands. 

The two hooded figures walked down the path. No one stopped them. 

One child in her arms and one child clutching her sleeve, Ursa finally did what she should have done a long time ago. She left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how pai sho works. I mostly know how chess works. I'm writing pai sho metaphors as if they were chess metaphors and just hoping for the best here.


	2. Unlaid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ursa weighs her options. The children wake up. 
> 
> Neither of those things are easy to address.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I can't believe all the love and attention this fic has gotten already! Thank you to everyone who commented, left a kudos, bookmarked, or even just read! I hope you continue to enjoy it!

She bribed her way onto a merchant's vessel.

She wasn't sure where the ship was going. She wasn't sure of the name of the captain, although she was pretty sure that it was the stern-faced woman currently explaining the last-minute changes to some grumbling deckhands. All she cared about was that the ship was mid-launch, that they didn't ask too many questions, and that they were willing to shuffle around the crew's sleeping arrangements so that she and her children could fit on the boat.

She paid for their passage with a handful of jewelry. She wasn't sure how much it was worth, exactly, but judging from the shocked look on the otherwise stoic captain's face when she handed it over, she probably could have requested the captain's quarters and gotten them. She settled for one of the crew bunkrooms, a small space with two hard beds against either wall. Zuko and Azula were currently curled up in one of the beds. Zuko had passed out the moment he laid down. Azula had yet to stir, the sedative she'd had slipped to her doing its job well. She felt bad about drugging her, but she’d needed to get out of the palace quickly and quietly. Zuko, she’d known would, and did, follow her without putting up a fuss or demanding an explanation. He trusted her. Azula, though, could be…difficult. Maybe she would have cooperated, maybe she would have alerted the whole palace to her plans. She couldn’t have risked that.

She wished that explanation didn't feel as sour on her lips as it did.

Ursa dropped onto the other bed, finally able to sit down and rest for the first time since her conversation with her husband. Her husband the Fire Nation _pr_ _ince_. Or Fire Lord by now, she corrected herself. Was he Fire Lord yet? The poison worked quickly, so unless Ozai had reason to wait to administer it, the deed was likely done. She tried not to dwell on that particular fact; there was a lot to process there that she didn't have the energy for. She laid back on the bunk.

Would Ozai become the Fire Lord the moment his father died? Or was it not official until the Fire Sages crowned him. There was some sort of ceremony that would happen, she knew, so who was Fire Lord until then? Was there one? It wouldn't be a very long time, granted, but what if there was something important that only the Fire Lord could handle that happened between now and then?

Ursa pushed herself back up. None of those questions actually mattered in the slightest. She shook her head as if the motion could knock loose the stray thoughts. She adjusted herself, sitting on the bed sideways so she could face her sleeping children. She braced her back against the wall, and pulled up her legs onto the narrow cot, arms loosely wrapped around her knees, pulling them towards her chest.

Her head bumped against the wall, and she reached up to find she had knocked her hairpiece out of place. She pulled the flame-shaped piece of gold that marked her status as princess out of her topknot and absentmindedly turned it around in her hand. She'd kept her hood up until she had settled into the room, so it probably hadn’t been spotted, but she probably shouldn't keep it in unless she wanted to advertise her identity. Which was something she probably didn't want to do. She let the hairpiece drop to the bed.

Now that she wasn't moving, she felt all of the exhaustion of today's events drop onto her all at once. What a day. Just hours ago, she bargained for the life of her oldest child. Now she was on a boat headed...well, as noted before, she wasn't sure. But she was headed _away_ , and that was enough for her.

Sleep wasn't an option yet. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was still racing. She might as well make use of the time to review her plan.

...

She had no plan.

Well, she had part of a plan. _'Escape the capitol and get herself and her children somewhere safe_.' Not the most detailed of a plan, but it was a start.

They'd made it out of the palace. The first part of their escape had gone surprisingly well. But she knew this wasn't the end of it.

If she had left on her own, she imagined she could slip away freely and easily. Obviously, that was what Ozai intended for her to do when he told her to leave. With her children in his hands, Ursa could never dare return to try anything against him, for fear of retaliation against them. It's what had kept her in line until now. But by going behind his back and taking Zuko and Azula with her, he couldn't _not_ come after her. He needed an heir, especially now that he was on the throne. And he needed hostages, to prevent her from coming back and finishing the job he now knew she was capable of doing.

She was now on the run from the leader of the most powerful nation in the world. She needed a more detailed plan than _'escape'_.

She wasn't sure where this ship was headed. She'd have to ask the captain in the morning, but considering it was a merchant's ship full of cargo, it was a safe bet to assume that it would be headed for a trading port. From a trading port, they could find passage to pretty much anywhere.

So where did she want to go?

Part of her wanted to stay in the Fire Nation. It was her home. It was her children's home. It would be familiar, even if they had to go to one of the more remote islands, or even one of the colonies. However, they ran the risk that someone would recognize them as part of the royal family. Should posters go up, that would only increase their chances of being caught.

They could flee to the Earth Kingdom instead. They'd be less likely to be recognized. But they'd also have more to hide. She had two young firebenders with her. She couldn't imagine that fact would be well received, royalty or not, in any place that had faced attacks from Fire Nation soldiers.

Neither option offered the safe sanctuary she was hoping for.

She opened her eyes, only now realizing that they had slipped shut. If sleep was coming, she couldn't afford to fight it. They were safe for the moment, as safe as they likely would be for a long while once they docked. She could sort this out in the morning. She closed her eyes again as sleep finally overtook her.

* * *

Ursa noticed three things as she woke up. First was the fact that she definitely did not get enough sleep. She was groggy, and there was the beginning of a headache already starting at her temples. The second thing she noticed was the gentle rocking of the boat, which was doing its best to add 'seasickness' to the list of ailments she was already dealing with. The last thing she noticed were voices, low enough to suggest that they intended to be quiet but rapidly losing sight of that goal as their volume increased.

"...I _see_ that, but _why_ are we on a boat, dum-dum?"

The children were awake. And they were arguing. Already. Time to deal with that.

"Mom said—" Zuko cut off as he saw Ursa sit up.

Azula turned her fierce gaze to her mother. "Where are we?" she demanded.

“We’re traveling,” she offered, hoping that would be enough. She knew it wouldn’t be.

"This isn't our boat."

"We had to leave rather suddenly," Ursa explained.

"These are _not_ quarters fit for royalty."

"We had to leave _very_ suddenly," she corrected. "This is what was available, so this is what we had to take."

"But _why?_ ” Azula knew there was more going on than what her mother was telling her, and she wasn't giving up until she knew what it was. She was relentless that way. It might have been an admirable trait, if not for how often Ursa found herself frustrated by her daughter's specific applications of it.

Ursa took a breath to push back her growing frustration. The pounding in her head made her want to roll over and deal with everything later. But it was her fault, after all, that Azula had just woken up on a strange boat with no memory of how she got here and no information as to why. She deserved some sort of explanation.

She opened her mouth, trying to find the right words to explain the situation, but was interrupted by Zuko.

"Father was going to kill me, wasn't he?" His voice was quiet, but the kind of quiet that left silence ringing in its aftermath.

She hesitated. Her first instinct was to deny it, but how could he believe that? Any hope he might have had that his sister's words last night were nothing but another cruel taunt had to have been dashed the moment she dragged him out of the palace in the middle of the night.

"I talked with your father," she said with as calm and level a voice as she could, "and we got it all sorted out."

"But Grandfather said—"

"You don't need to worry about what your grandfather might have said," she cut Azula off. Her voice was firm, but strained. "It's _sorted_."

Her statement hung in the air. Zuko looked relieved, if still a little confused. Azula continued to glare at her.

"So then why did we have to leave?"

"There's a lot going on at the palace right now," she explained. "Your father and I thought it would be best to get away for a while."

"Like when we spent the summer at Ember Island!" Zuko offered.

"Kind of, but we’re going somewhere new. And we have to go in secret. I promise"—she cut off the forming questions— “I’ll explain when we get where we’re going.” _Wherever that is._ “I just need you to trust me. Okay?”

Azula’s acceptance came with significantly more grumbling than her brother’s, but for now it would have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schedule update: I'd like to keep a bit of a buffer between writing and posting, but I have another chapter and a half that just needs final editing, so I should have the next chapter up before the middle of next week!


	3. Ships in the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The captain of this ship regrets none of her life decisions except possibly the decision to she let these children onto her ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just need a captain to run the ship for a chapter or so, and now she has a backstory and an entire chapter in her perspective. Whoops.

Captain Ayosa took stock of the three last-minute additions to her ship. The girl alternated between sulking and yelling at her crew anytime one of them got too close to her. The boy, on the other hand, was following the sailors around as if he were a lost shark-puppy waiting for fish scraps. The woman was obviously on the run from someone, and without much of a plan if she had to guess. She kept glancing at the horizon behind them as if she expected something to show up.

When the woman bargained for their passage, she had assured the captain that she and her charges would be fine staying in the cabin. Ayosa was impressed that she had made it until midmorning to approach her and ask if they could come up to the deck for fresh air. The children had risen with the sun, and they had been bickering loud enough for her to hear (though not quite understand) nonstop since then.

She didn’t necessarily blame them. The rooms were cramped, and she knew how quickly boredom set in on a boat when there was nothing to do. That said, the _Hanayome_ wasn't exactly child friendly, and the extra additions were starting to get underfoot. At the very least, though, there was enough space that the two children could be separated, so things were quiet again, but that just meant she had to put more effort into keeping track of where they both were.

The boy took quite an interest in learning the intricate workings of a sailing ship, but unfortunately preferred a hands-on approach to exploration, to varying degrees of success and safety. He'd come close to accidentally falling overboard at least three times already, and she would be more upset at his mother for not keeping a better eye on him, if not for the fact that said mother spent most of her time tailing her daughter, who'd spent her time on deck staring over the railing as if calculating whether or not she could swim to shore from here.

Her crew had taken to bouncing him from person to person to keep him from getting into too much trouble while they tried to get their work done. The _Hanayome_ was not a place frequented by children, and most of the sailors on board had a very low tolerance for how much babysitting they could handle. Tusao, one of the few crewmen with children of his own, managed to last nearly an hour with the kid while he explained how they calculated the ship's position, but then he needed to reset some rigging at the top of the center mast, a place she had explicitly forbidden for anyone who’d been on the ship less than a week. Thus, it was now somehow her turn in a babysitting rotation she had never agreed to be part of.

"So..." she started, trying to think of something that might interest a child, "have you ever seen an otter-squirrel?"

He shook his head.

"That's Mizzie." She pointed up. "It's short for mizzenmast."

Her otter-squirrel, Mizzie, was currently perched amongst the rigging of his namesake. He chittered and darted further up when he realized the stranger had spotted his hiding place.

"He's a little shy around new people."

"Oh."

They stood in silence for a few moments.

He turned to her quizzically. "What's a mizzenmast?"

"It's the aftmost mast."

He stared at her with a look of growing confusion.

"The sail pole at the back of the boat," she explained.

The silence resumed. The boy craned his neck as he tried to get a view of the creature. 

"Hold on." She started to root around in her pockets. Mizzie might be shy, but his love was easily bought. There. A handful of nuts. She grabbed two, passing one to the boy. "Watch this."

She whistled, then lobbed the nut upwards. Mizzie scrambled down the pole and snatched the nut from midair. He cracked it open, ate the soft interior, and watched them, waiting for more.

"You try."

He did, laughing as the otter-squirrel caught his offering. She placed a cluster of nuts in his hand.

"Zu-Zu!" He was interrupted before he could throw another treat. His sister marched towards them. "I'm bored. Play with me."

"I'm playing catch. This is Mizzie. You can play too." He held his cupped hand out to her.

"I don't want to play with the dumb animal."

Mizzie, realizing that more treats were not soaring his way, but rather sitting unprotected in the hand of his new friend, decided he was done waiting. He scrambled down the mast and jumped, bouncing off of the girl's head to launch himself onto the boy's shoulder.

Captain Ayosa expected the surprised squeal (this wasn't the first unsuspecting head to be used as a springboard), but what she didn't expect was for the girl to respond by launching a bolt of flame at the creature now rooting around her brother's hair.

Impressively, the kid managed to lean out of the way in time to avoid getting singed, but he did lose his balance, and would have tipped over the railing—make that four near-overboard accidents—had Ayosa not managed to grab him by the shirt and pull him back.

She whipped around to face the girl, fuming. She could deal with the boy slowing down his crew with his constant questions and need to be involved. She could deal with the girl's demanding attitude and angry outbursts. But this she would not tolerate.

She opened her mouth to yell at the girl but was beaten to it when the girl's mother appeared from around the corner. She was out of breath, and she guessed the girl had ditched her to come over here.

"Az—" The woman stopped herself mid-yell, letting the rest out with a flustered huff. "Seriously? That’s not alright.” She turned to Ayosa. "I'm so sorry."

She grabbed her daughter's arm and dragged her below deck.

She watched them walk off. Her parents had wanted her to marry, start a family, carry on their name. She'd probably have children around the girl's age by now if she’d listened to them.

She'd never felt so good about deciding to run away and become a sailor instead.

The boy seemed surprisingly unfazed by the fact that his little sister was just moments ago lobbing flames in his direction. He pulled her out of her musings by holding the otter-squirrel out to her. Mizzie clambered up her arm and started angrily chittering at him from his shoulder perch. He seemed angry, but none the worse for wear.

"Thanks for letting me play with your pet."

He darted off before she could respond.

She let him go. She'd had enough of dealing with children for a while. She returned to her cabin to sort shipping manifests. She really needed to stop letting them pile up. Mizzie lounged in his hammock besides her, fiasco forgotten with the offering of nuts she dumped in his lap.

* * *

Captain Ayosa returned to the deck a few hours later. She didn't see the girl or the woman anywhere, so she assumed they were still in their cabin. The boy was currently on the starboard deck with one of the younger sailors by the name of Joro. She watched him toss the kid a coil of rope. He stumbled a little at the weight, before following Joro's lead to wind it around a stack of crates. It seems Joro had recruited the kid to help him resecure some of the cargo.

She marched over to make sure that the kid wasn't about to become a hazard to himself or her payload. Joro caught sight of her as she approached and waved.

"Now what's going on over here?"

The question came out a little harsher than she intended, and the kid flinched back, mouth opening as if to offer an explanation. Joro beat him to it.

"Kid was looking for something to do. Figured I could get him to help tie these down while Nura and Rako took care of the load on the other side.

"Fine," she replied, "but you better make sure he's doing it right, or else you'll be stripping it down and completely redoing it yourself."

She ignored his _yes ma'am_ s as she inspected the work. The knots were a little loose, but a few quick tugs remedied that easily enough.

"Not bad, kid."

The look of gratuity he gave her was almost precious enough to make her reconsider her own parent’s wishes.

From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the boy’s mother watching from the cabin doorway, a faint smile on her lips. She noticed she was being watched and returned the look, mouthing a silent _thank you._

Then the girl emerged from behind her, slashing a knife through the air that apparently belonged to the boy, according to his indignant cries as he dropped the ropes to chase after her, and the moment was ruined.

She couldn’t wait to get these kids off her ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fantasynamegenerators.com is a blessing
> 
> I don't know much about ships. But thanks to Google, I DO know what a mizzen mast is. And thanks to this fic, now you do to. You're welcome.


	4. Ursa should reconsider her definition of "smoothly"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The captain has some words. Ursa has some worries. Part one of a brief excursion into their first town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter officially pushed me past 100 kudos and 1k hits! Wow! Thanks to everyone reading, bookmarking, kudos-ing (is that a term?), and commenting! I know I haven’t responded to most of the comments (is that a thing authors usually do?) but I do read them and they bring me so much joy!

They reached the end of the second day at sea. The day went smoothly, all things considered. Zuko and Azula started the day by running through their morning katas on deck, which got the attention of Rako, the ship's resident firebender, who, after some lighthearted-on-her-side and concerningly-aggressive-on-Azula's-side teasing, agreed to spar with them. The exertion wore them out for a while, and then the ship ran into a small squall. The battering of waves against the side of the ship left Azula seasick enough that she couldn't do much except loudly deny that she was seasick. Zuko, on the other hand, had found his sea legs, and Captain Ayosa decided that if he was going to keep following her sailors around, he might as well help them with their work. His knots were getting pretty good.

Now it was evening. The rest of the day had passed by otherwise uneventfully. The storm had cleared, although the line of clouds on the horizon suggested that it might just be a brief respite. For now, though, Ursa was enjoying the clear sky and gentler waters on deck. Azula and Zuko were both in bed already. The nice thing about children who rose with the sun was that they also tended to drop shortly after the sun set. She leaned against the ship’s rails, watching the rising moon’s reflection stretch towards the horizon.

A voice interrupted the quiet night. "As long as the winds holds up, we should be docking first thing in the morning."

Captain Ayosa appeared on deck, leaning forward against the railing alongside her. Ursa turned to acknowledge her presence, but the other woman just stared straight out over the sea as she continued to talk.

"I recommend you get off this ship and far away from us as fast as you can once we dock."

Oh. Ursa's face fell. "Again, I'm sorry about my daughter's outbursts, and the disruptions—"

Ayosa held up her hand, cutting her off. "Don't misunderstand me. Your kids are...rambunctious, to be sure, and I can't say I'll miss having them underfoot, but this isn't about that. I agreed to take you aboard, no questions asked. And I'm sticking to that. But I'm smart enough to be able to piece a few things together myself, and so are my crew. I know the look of a woman on the run. I've been there myself. I'd like to help you as much as I can, but my duty is first and foremost to my crew. I won't jeopardize their safety to keep you hidden."

"I understand," Ursa said. That was already more aid than she had expected.

"And one more thing," Ayosa continued. "Talk to your kids. They don't know what's going on, and I know that because every moment they're together and not at each other's throats, they're discussing where they think you're going. And they're a lot less discreet than they think they are. I'm not a parent. I'm not going to pretend I know what you're dealing with, or that I know better than you how to raise them. But if you're uprooting them like I suspect you are, then they deserve to know why."

Ursa sighed. "It's complicated."

"It always is,” she countered. “And it's also not. You left for a reason. Whatever it is, they're old enough to understand. But the longer you keep them in the dark, the angrier they'll be when they finally find out."

"I know," she conceded. "Thank you. For passage, and for putting up with my children, and for the advice."

"You're welcome. Now go get some rest." Her tone shifted to something much more lighthearted. "I've only known your kids for two days and I'm exhausted. I don't know how you do it."

"You figure it out, I guess,” Ursa laughed. She realized that sentiment applied to a lot more in her life than just raising her children.

"That you do." Captain Ayosa agreed. "That you do."

* * *

The winds did hold up, although the rain returned. They docked a few hours after sunrise, and as the captain suggested, they left the ship the moment the gangplanks touch down.

She pulled her hood up, grateful for the gentle drizzle that kept it from looking out of place as she stepped off of the docks and onto the cobblestone of the town’s streets. Before her, a city stretched out along the coastline of the cove. Immediately adjacent to the docks lining the cove stretched an open marketplace full of stalls and carts and newly unloaded crates. Beyond that, more permanent buildings stretched up and out, haphazardly expanding into the mountain beyond them.

Despite the somber weather, the city was still a bustle of activity. Brightly colored stalls painted a backdrop for the voices of buyers and sellers haggling for a deal. Merchants pushed carts through the spaces between them, calling out today’s bargains on fresh produce, on fabrics in the latest styles, on oils and perfumes and elixirs to fix your any ailment. The smell of rich spices from food vendors wafted across the square, mixing with the smell of salt and other less savory ocean smells. The gruff voices of sailors hauling large crates parted the crowds before them; the even gruffer voice of a cart driver cleared the street as pedestrians redirected to side streets to avoid the mud kicked up by his dragon moose’s hooves.

Ursa clutched Zuko and Azula’s hands in her own hand, keeping them close to her. She scanned the crowd around her, watching for any sign of recognition, any indication that they were being watched or followed. A guard nodded as they passed by; she ducked her head, hoping he hadn’t caught her face. The sound of rustling feathers passed overhead and her eyes shot up. Just sea bird, watching for scraps. Not a messenger hawk sending word of their arrival.

“Mom?” Zuko’s voice sounded worried as he tugged at her sleeve with the hand not currently clutched in her vice-like grip.

She realized that she had stopped moving. The crowd around her continued to move past, pushing around the trio like water parting around a rock in a river. Her children stared up at her, with looks that each conveyed different emotions but both demanded answers.

“I’m just…getting my land legs back.” She forced a smile. She could freak out later. She probably would freak out later. But for now, she needed to stay aware, she needed to stay on task. The first stretch of their escape was complete, but the next stretch was going to be even harder now that Ozai had time to discover their disappearance, and time to respond. She only hoped that they weren’t walking into a trap, that he wasn’t already on their trail.

She’d planned out her next moves while on the boat. Sell off some of the items she had shoved into her satchel. Coin would be harder to trace than royal jewelry. With that coin, she could book passage and buy supplies. Ideally, she wanted to get to the colonies, at least for the time being. It would be easier to move by foot between cities on the main continent than it would be to move between the small islands of the outer Fire Nation. She hardly liked the idea of being stuck on one more boat to get there; she didn’t want to continually face the risk of being recognized by a sailor every time they left a city.

With a little luck, she could do this. She breathed in, out, and stepped forward. She pushed back into the flow of people, walking with a strong, determined stride. Moving through the maze of buildings, she let the three of them disappear into the crowd, just one more set of damp travelers wandering the streets, nothing more.

* * *

It took a few streets (some of which may have been traversed twice; Ursa was having a hard time keeping track of direction in the haphazard sprawl) to find a shop that looked promising, but eventually she came to a weather-worn storefront with a variety of knickknacks stacked in the windows.

She leaned her head in the door. "Do you buy, or just sell?"

"Depends on what you've got," replied the old man sitting at a counter in the back.

They entered. The shop was compact, walls lined with shelves and drawers and a few small tables holding everything from ceramic dishes, to glass figurines, to what looked to be a rusting tsungi horn leaned against the back corner. Ursa released her children’s hands (ignoring the over-dramatic shake of her hand that Azula made as let go; she’d kept a better gauge of her grip strength past her initial freeze up) as she approached the counter, pulling items out of her satchel.

The old man watched with interest as she set items on the counter. A few, he picked up to inspect closer, feeling their weight and looking over them with a small collapsible lens.

“These are some nice pieces. Where did you come across them?” He looked up from his inspection.

“Old family heirlooms, but I can’t say I’m all that attached to the family they came from.”

He pushed a few pieces aside. “These you’ve have better luck selling at one of the dockside stalls. Trinkets like that tend to be pretty popular with sailors looking to bring back something for their lady-friends, but I don’t get much of that traffic this far back. For the rest, though, I can offer you…”

* * *

“Azula, stop taking my knife!” Zuko snapped, distracted from his mother’s haggling as his sister snagged the knife that Uncle had gifted him from his belt.

“Then get better at stopping me,” she responded, leaning out of his reach. “What good is a knife going to do you if you can’t even keep a hold of it?”

“Give it back!”

“Come and get me!”

Azula ducked behind a table. Zuko followed her. She continued to circle around the table, just out of reach, while Zuko tried to find a way to corner her. He saw an opening as she rounded a corner and lunged. Azula stepped back, but she was closer than she realized to the shelf behind her. It shifted, items jingling against each other, and a small ceramic figurine tumbled off.

It shattered on the ground.

They froze. The shopkeeper looked up at the sound, and pointedly slid a coin from the pile he was counting out back across the counter.

* * *

Ursa grabbed her children once again as she walked out the door. Her satchel was lighter and her coin purse heavier. She doubted that she got the best deal on the items she had sold, but she had neither the time nor the desire to search around for a more generous buyer. What she had should be enough for now.

Step one complete. She prayed the remaining steps would go as smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a bit of writer's block this week, and I spent way too much time changing and reoutlining this chunk of the story. My initial concept of this and what will probably be the next couple of chapters included very few details beyond "they escape by boat to [spoilers]", but I didn't just want to handwave my way past this portion. Hopefully I can keep the quality of the story up while I push through to the parts that I have a better vision for. At this point, I've ran out of the writing buffer I wanted to maintain. I'm still hoping to have another chapter up next week (I need deadlines in order to get anything done), but if I'm late to post, that's why.


	5. Edges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

“Why do we have to hold your hands? We’re not babies.” Azula huffed and tugged back the hand currently held by her mother.

Ursa held firm. “This is a big city, and we’ve got a lot to do. I don’t want us getting separated, and I can’t have you wandering off.”

“But your hands are so cold,” she complained.

“Then you and Zuko can help me warm them up. By holding onto them,” Ursa retorted.

Her hands did warm up in her children’s grip. The hand held by Azula became especially warm. And warmer. Then hot.

“Azula…” her mother warned. They stared each other down, her hand almost unbearably hot, but she didn’t let go.

A moment passed, then another. The grip settled into a more tolerable temperature.

They kept walking.

* * *

In this town, finding a boat willing and able to carry extra passengers wasn’t a difficult task. While the bulk of people who filtered through this port were sailors and merchants already tied to the ships that brought them there, the town had just enough tourists, travelers, and transient workers looking for transport that passed through to merit the development of official channels to streamline this process. Working from a squat, sun-bleached building, the dock master helped pair up those in need of passage with passenger ships that had dropped off some of their clients, sailing vessels with a few spare bunks, and crews looking to fill empty positions.

Of course, official channels required official documentation. Tickets left trails. So Ursa was not headed for that squat, sun-bleached building.

So far, Ursa had yet to spot any sort of postings marking them as missing or wanted. Whether this was an oversight on her end or Ozai’s, she wasn’t yet sure. But if there was anyone who would know to be on the lookout for her, or anyone who would be approached first when the tree of them were finally traced to this town, it was the man who coordinated the influx and exodus of passengers in sudden need of transport.

No. If Ursa and the children were going to get off of this island, she needed to cut out the middleman.

* * *

Ursa staked out the building while she and the children ate. They’d found a restaurant where a cook in a small kitchen served over-spiced rice to customers at small outdoor tables. A series of strung up canvases kept the majority of the rain off of them as they ate. Across the road was her quarry—a rundown tavern. _The Tidepool._ From what she saw, it catered to sailors, many of whom looked like they came straight over from the docks. With any luck, she could find a sailor willing to let them onboard.

She debated whether she should bring her children inside with her. They would draw attention, something she was already nervous about doing herself. And that’s assuming they would even be allowed in. On the other hand, she hated the idea of leaving them outside, out of her sight. But they would be together, and when they worked together, they made a capable team.

A glass shattered somewhere inside, the sound loud enough to reach her ears all the way across the street.

The children could wait outside.

* * *

Ursa took a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves, rehearsing her goals. It was simple. She needed passage to the colonies for herself and two traveling companions. She had plenty of coin to cover their fare, more to keep things discreet. It wasn’t even a lie, really. She’d done this same thing before when she hired the _Hanayome_. The only difference now was that she had time to think things through.

She glanced behind her one last time, to where Zuko and Azula picked at some sweet treat she’d ordered before she left them there, under strict instructions to not talk to anyone, to stay there, to stay together.

She pushed open the door.

It was only midday, so the tavern was relatively empty compared to what it would be like come evening, but it was already a bit too crowded for her tastes. Before entering, she’d worried that everyone in the room would look at her as she entered, but in reality, very few patrons noticed her entrance, and those that did quickly returned to their prior activities.

She slid up to the bar counter, tossing down a few coins to the bartender who brought out a large, rancid smelling mug that she definitely would not be drinking from. It seemed like this place prided itself more on the quantity of drink it could provide, rather than the quality. She cradled it in her hands, hoping it would help her blend in as she eyed the sailors, looking for someone promising.

* * *

She spent a while talking to sailors, bouncing from table to table without much luck, until…

“Pardon me. Not to interrupt, but I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re in need of a ship?”

The previous sailor she’d been talking to slipped away, leaving her facing the newcomer. It was a tall, fit man, wearing similar garb to the other sailors she had encountered.

“Perhaps…” she started, instinctively protecting her intentions, before realizing that at this point, half the bar knew she was looking for a ship. “I am,” she corrected. “Specifically to the colonies, if you know of a ship going that way.”

“And what’s a well-dressed Fire Nation woman like yourself doing headed to the colonies?” he prodded.

She clutched at her cloak, unconsciously pulling it tighter around her to hide the fine silk of her clothes, not that it would do much good at this point.

“Returning home, actually. I was traveling with my husband when he had a sudden emergency to deal with here, so I’m going on ahead of him. I’ve found that it’s faster to hire a ship directly if you have the coin for it. Which I do,” she added.

“Well as luck would have it, I do know a ship. Mine.” He sat down in the now vacant chair across from her. “I’m part of a crew headed to Hu Xin. We just dropped off a few sailors, so we’ve got an empty cabin. That work for you?”

“That’s close enough to where I need to be.”

The man offered a disarming smile. "Perfect!"

Maybe their luck was holding out after all.

* * *

“Mom’s hiding something.” Azula stared at her brother across the table as the two of them waited for their mother to return.

“Hmm?” Zuko responded, poking at their dessert.

“You know something, don’t you?”

“No!” he insisted. “Mom didn’t tell me anything she didn’t tell you.”

She searched for any sign of deceit. “I believe you. You’re too bad a liar to have kept a secret this long.”

She reached over the table, snagging a bite of the treat for herself. “Something’s wrong. Why isn’t Dad here? We never travel with just Mom,” she continued.

“Mom said there was an emergency. Maybe he had to stay behind to deal with it.”

“Aren’t you even a little curious what’s happening?” she asked.

He shrugged, but there was a nervous stiffness to his movement. “Mom said she’d tell us what happened when we get where we’re going.”

“And that’s good enough for you?”

Across the street, the door of the tavern opened, revealing their mother waving at them with a smile on her face. He swallowed the final bite and looked back at Azula.

“Yeah, it is.”

He leapt up from the table and raced to his mother.

* * *

“Why do we have to dress like peasants?”

They’d finished most of their errands, Ursa stocking up on supplies for the next leg of the trip. The last item on her list before they met the sailor at the docks was a new set of clothes. Their silks may not specifically tag them as royals, but they were certainly the garb of nobles, and once on the ship, it would be harder to hide that under their cloaks. Not to mention, they weren’t exactly made for travel. Ursa’s new outfit, a long burgundy vest over a full-length grey underdress, was certainly much lighter than the thick royal robes she was used to. Her daughter, however, didn’t seem to see the same advantages.

“These are traveling clothes, Azula,” her mother replied. “They’ll be a lot more comfortable on the next boat.”

Azula grumbled, out of arguments, but pointedly did not concede the point.

Zuko emerged from the changing room in the back of the tailor’s shop. He now sported a set of simple grey pants with a red tunic. The cut was similar to his old clothes, but with fewer layers than his normal palacewear. Ursa handed Azula a similar set and sent her to the back. 

As they waited, a sign for the adjacent shop caught Ursa’s eye. She felt the coin purse at her hip. They could afford one more purchase.

* * *

“What’s it say?” Zuko asked, leaning over his sister’s shoulder to read the blade’s inscription. “ _’Made in the Fire Nation’_?”

Azula huffed, shrugging her shoulder to push her brother back. She rotated the knife that her mother had handed to her as they exited the tailors. “ _’True strength comes from within_.’ Sounds cheesy,” she complained.

It was kind of cheesy, Ursa had to admit. But it was still a nice knife. It was small enough to fit easily into Azula’s slight hands, but sharp enough to pose a threat to anyone unlucky enough to be on the other end of it. She picked that one in particular because it reminded her of the one that Zuko owned, straight edged on one side, gently tapering into point on the other, leading into a smooth handle made of bone, rather than the pearl of Zuko’s. The shopkeeper had tried to argue that it was dragon bone, but Ursa suspected it was really from a much more mundane animal, and she’d bet the shopkeeper knew that too, considering how much she was able to negotiate the price down when she called him out on it.

Maybe this would settle things between the children. Azula had made a game of snagging Zuko’s knife whenever he wasn’t paying enough attention. To be honest, she didn’t remember grabbing the knife when she was frantically packing during… _that night that she’s not going to think about now,_ which means it was probably in the pile of stuff she swept off of Azula’s nightstand, and despite her admonishments, the thievery hadn’t stopped. She suspected that it mainly stemmed from boredom, as bothering Zuko seemed to be a favorite pastime of hers, but maybe also she was jealous of their uncle's gift. She loved Iroh (she felt a lurch in her chest at the realization she might not ever see him again, didn’t even get to say goodbye), but no one who paid any attention to Azula would think a doll was a good gift for her.

Maybe this knife could be a way of telling her daughter that she did pay attention. Maybe, this gift could be a peace offering, smoothing the water between them that had always been rough, but were only getting worse the longer Azula realized that Ursa was keeping something from her. Maybe this knife could be an apology, softening the blow she knew was coming once she finally confessed to her children the truth about their journey.

Probably not. It was just a souvenir knife from a random port town. But at the very least it could be useful.

Maybe a dagger wasn’t the best gift for a nine-year-old, but Azula was already a firebender. If she were going to be careless around dangerous things, she could do much worse damage with much less than a small knife. And as they ventured away from fire nation settlements, it would be good for the girl to have a way to defend herself without revealing their roots.

For whatever complaints she had about the knife, Azula seemed to like it. At the very least, she tied it onto her belt. The red leather sheath added a regal accent to her otherwise simple outfit.

As they stepped back into the streets, Azula took her hand without prompting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I had some major writing block for a while there, but on the plus side, I did do a lot of writing for later chapters, so once we finally get there we’ll be ready to roll! Unfortunately, there’s going to be a bit of a delay again before the next chapter. I’m moving in a week and a half, so I probably won’t have anything new up until the beginning of November. Luckily, I’m hoping that I’ll have more time to write after the move, so hopefully I’ll be able to get back on a normal posting schedule eventually.


	6. Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was it Ozai used to say about luck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! I'm back. Almost a month later than I'd planned to be, but I'm back. I /think/ I should have the next chapter up sooner, but then again, I should know better about myself and self-imposed deadlines by now.

As they returned to the docks, Ursa scanned the crowds for the man she’d met at the tavern. A burst of motion caught her eye, and she spotted him, waving them over. Good. Her worries that she wouldn’t be able to find him, or that he wouldn’t recognize her in her new traveling clothes were put to rest.

Then again, a man who barely knew her had been able to pick her out in a crowd. That didn’t speak well of her ability to blend in as she had attempted. But no one else seemed to be paying them much mind as the man escorted them across the docks. Throughout the short walk, he babbled about various, unimportant topics that Ursa couldn’t find within her to focus on, but she did finally catch his name when Zuko asked for it. Whether she had missed it or simply forgotten it as they bargained for ship prices, she couldn’t remember, but she made note of it now. Lee. A simple, common name. Strangely, he didn’t ask for their names back.

“Here we are!” Lee announced. He reached out to give Azula’s hair a familiar rustle, and she snarled at him. Just for a moment, Ursa watched the lighthearted demeanor that he had carried since they met up slip, face hardening as he pulled his hand back. As quickly as that mask dropped, it was back up, jovial smile plastered on his face, acting as if Azula’s outburst hadn’t occurred at all, despite the girl’s continued glare. Ursa pulled Azula just a little closer to her as they ascended the gangplank onto the ship itself.

Despite Lee’s nearly unshakeable demeanor, the rest of the crew did not seem to share his jovial attitude. They boarded the ship amid a flurry of movement, as rough-looking sailors caught crates hoisted up from the docks and passed them onto equally gruff sailors piling said cargo into stacks on the ship’s deck.

One man, who seemed to be focused on directing the activity rather than participating in it, turned as they walked by. “Didn’t say it was children we’re bringing aboard,” he grumbled.

“Never said they weren’t, though,” Lee replied.

The man—the captain maybe? He certainly seemed to Ursa like someone in charge, despite Lee’s casual response—sneered. “Keep them out of the way.” He turned back to the crew and yelled, “Hurry up! Tide’s about to change, we need to be moving by then!”

Judging by the number of crates still on the dock, the ship looked barely half loaded. However, they wouldn’t get to see how the crew managed to finish on time, as Lee shuffled them past the frantic preparations to disembark, and below decks to the quarters set aside for them.

* * *

“This is worse than the last boat!” Azula exclaimed, as they entered the room Lee directed them to.

Despite the shushing admonishment she gave her daughter, Ursa couldn’t help but agree. The room was small. If it weren’t for the three hammocks strung up against the walls, she might have mistaken it for a storage closet, complete with a few spare coils of rope in the back corner. The lack of windows made it all the more claustrophobic, and the sole illumination came from a lantern hooked to the back of the door.

The kids crawled into adjacent hammocks, content to sit and compare their knives after a full day on their feet. She gently settled into the remaining hammock, trying to appreciate the moment of rest but failing to find it. That pit was back in her stomach. As she watched her children brandish their respective knives, she couldn’t help but be glad they had them.

Vaguely, she felt the change in motion that indicated the ship had left the dock, headed into the open sea. The pit in her stomach grew.

* * *

Ursa woke from a nightmare. Her eyes darted, her limbs flailed, as she came to consciousness. She tried to push herself up, struggling against the tangle of fabric that pulled around her body. The feeling of being trapped sent a surge of adrenaline through her body, and she finally pulled herself free, allowing herself a view of the room. Dark save for a small lantern against the door; cramped and cluttered with a mix of loose ropes and traveling bags; quiet enough to hear the sound of tossing waves and her children’s steady breaths as they slept in their respective hammocks, undisturbed by her brief panic. The tension in her body dropped slightly, though not completely.

She sat up, hammock wobbling as she repositioned her weight in the fabric. She took a long, slow breath, trying to settle her racing heartbeat. She tried to recall what the dream that woke her was about but came up blank. Apparently, the process of grounding herself after the abrupt awakening had been enough to chase the details away, leaving her with just the lingering feeling of unease.

Of course, that wasn’t a particularly new feeling. Ursa had always prided herself for her ability to trust her gut, but it was difficult to listen for that voice of warning when her mind had been screaming _danger_ since the moment she’d slipped away from the palace. Her nerves were on such high alert that she could no longer tell what were real threats and what were false alarms.

This ship made her uneasy. Maybe it was because that they were so close to being out, getting away, that she couldn’t help but wait for it to come crashing down. Maybe it was that she didn’t like the idea of once again having to place her trust in people she didn’t know. She’d gotten lucky with the _Hanayome_ , there was no doubt about that, and finding another ship so quickly after landing had been lucky too, right?

Luck and strangers were two things she wasn’t comfortable putting too much faith in right now. 

She took another deep, settling breath.

Trapped. That’s how she felt. In this hammock, in this tiny room, in this ship.

She needed air.

She finished untangling herself from the hammock, and grabbed the lantern off the door. She reached for the door handle, momentarily seized by the fear that the door would be locked, that she was trapped here in this tiny room on this unfamiliar, unfriendly ship.

The door opened, easily, soundlessly, and allowed her into the hall.

* * *

Ursa leaned against the railing. Wind blew at her hair, currently down from its usual topknot. She fussed with the ribbon that normally held it up, wrapping and unwrapping it around her palm as she stared out over the water. The night was dark. The clouds that had harried them for most of the journey had only grown thicker, blocking out whatever moonlight might otherwise shine. That didn’t stop her from staring at the horizon, searching for some sign of land.

Based on what she knew of Fire Nation geography, there wasn’t actually that much sea between the previous port and the main continent. She peered at the horizon, trying to see land. Was that something? She could see what she thought looked like a smudge in the distance, but for all her peering, it didn’t get any clearer. She could imagine though. 

She was so close. Safety was almost in sight, quite possibly literally if not for the clouds. Then…what?

She’d be in a foreign land, alone and destitute, caring for two children plucked from their lives of comfort, possibly on the run for the rest of their lives.

It would still be better than living under Ozai’s thumb.

She’d find someplace safe. The Fire Nation army may be slowly sweeping across the continent, but there were Earth Kingdom cities that could withstand their assault. Ba Sing Se had proved that. She’d find somewhere she could start anew, raise her family in peace. She’d survived a simple life before; it would be nice to return to her roots. Maybe she could be an herbalist, like her mother. Even though at the time Ursa wanted to focus more on acting, she had learned a lot from helping around her mother's shop, and much of that knowledge had stuck. That much Ursa had proved.

She would figure it out. After all, she’d made it this far, hadn’t she?

Something wet hit her nose. She touched it the spot it landed as another hit her hand. Raindrops. The storm had broken. Drop after drop hit the deck, landing with soft taps that rapidly grew in frequency. She tied the ribbon off around her wrist. Time to go back below deck.

She made to move for the door that she left through, but someone else opened the door first. Two crewmen emerged. Ursa ducked back, not wanting to reveal her presence. Thankfully, there was a large stack of crates on deck for her to move behind. Unfortunately, that seemed to be exactly where the two crewmen were headed. She eased her way around the mass, hoping to keep out of sight long enough to get to the door.

A particularly rough wave hit the ship, and Ursa stumbled, falling to one knee and losing her grip on the lantern. Luckily, at the same moment, a bolt of lightening streaked across the sky, instantaneously accompanied by its thunder. The boom drowned out the sound of the lantern clanking to the ground. She sent a silent thanks to the storm and darted for the door before the crewman could finish grumbling about the weather.

* * *

Ursa continued back towards her room. She passed a door, and caught the sound of two voices, engaged in what seemed to be an impassioned discussion. She stopped, curiosity piqued. A glance down either end of the hallway showed that no one else was around, so she stayed, straining to catch their words.

She was glad she did.

“…No! This is my ship, you can’t just start ordering—” The man—presumably the captain, she tried to recall what he sounded like from before—started.

“I can, and I am,” the over voice cut in. That voice she did recognize. Lee. Though she almost didn’t recognize it. Gone was the casual, friendly tone he had taken with her. This voice was cold. He spoke with an authority that stemmed not from volume as the captain had relied on when they disembarked, but from a steady tone that tolerated no disobedience.

Not that the captain seemed to understand that. “First we leave early, now this,” he grumbled. “This is more than just a passenger ship, you know. I dropped a lot of coin on this last shipment, only to leave half of it behind. Now I have to find a buyer at a different port as well?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Lee said, disdain clear in his voice. “After all, I know you’re not… _picky_ when it comes to who you’ll sell to. I assure you that you’ll be more than compensated for your trip. And after that, you can continue on with your remaining ‘business’ without worrying about anyone looking too closely at your transactions.”

A few more words were spoken, but Ursa couldn’t quite make them out.

“Don’t you forget who I’m working for.” Ursa jumped at the sudden announcement.

Silence followed. Ursa wondered if the captain was as terrified as she was.

“Good. Consider this a gesture of good will, a sneak peek of what’s to come, if you will.” She heard the sound of coins clinking. “Now, I hope we won’t have any other problems, hmm?”

She heard the faintest murmur of agreement.

“Good,” Lee concluded. “The Fire Lord appreciates your help.”

No. No, no, _no_.

An aborted sound choked in her throat. She wasn’t sure if it was a gasp or a cry or a laugh. So much for her luck. She bit her lip, hoping to contain any other sounds that might try to escape her. Of course, that was assuming the pounding of her heart didn’t give her away instead. Her free hand reached back, searching for something to ground her. Her fingertips hit the wall, and she pressed her palm against the wood, supporting her and guiding her as she slowly crept backwards. She moved that way the whole length of the hallway, eyes locked on the door. She willed it not to open as the voices behind it trailed off.

Once she rounded the corner, she turned, hurrying back towards her room as she heard the door creak open in the distance. Her own door slipped closed behind her, and she stood against it. Footsteps approached, growing louder and louder as they paced down the hallway. Then, quieter, as they continued past, and further down the hallway.

Ursa let out her breath and set down the lantern. Its soft glow illuminated the room. Zuko and Azula slept peacefully, undisturbed by her entrance. She watched their hammocks sway back and forth to the growing motion of the storm as she slid into a hunched position on the floor.

And she tried to contain her panic.


	7. Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Ursa had a coin for every time she had to wake her children up in the middle of the night to escape from imminent danger, she'd have two coins. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice. In less than a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for intense storms, shipwrecks. This fic shouldn't touch on any of the major AO3 warnings, but I do want to be conscientious of other warnings that people might appreciate. I'm still working on identifying what I should and shouldn't note, so if you ever see anything that should be noted, especially as I come to some of the more intense chapters, please let me know.

Ursa paced. Back and forth, unable to take more than a few steps in the small room before being forced to pivot and return to her previously worn path. This was likely actually a closet, she now realized. There was never a spare bunk. This was never an serendipitously encountered ship. Lee was never a friendly man offering to help. This was a trap. They knew. They knew who she was. And she knew. She knew she was being hunted, and still she fell into this trap.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to beat her fists on the wall and yell and release the anger building up in herself, anger that was aimed not just a Ozai for, well, everything, and at Lee (if that was even his name) for lying and using his honeyed words and promise of help to lure her onto this ship. She was angry at herself. For falling into this trap, for letting down her guard, for putting her children in danger.

She kept silent. The only sound she made was the gentle _step, step_ of her feet against the wooden floor. They didn’t know that she knew. That was the one advantage she still had going for her. They thought she was still naïve. They would underestimate her. She’d already made it up to the deck, and back, undisturbed, because they wanted to let her believe that this was just a normal trip. But how long would that last? They were supposed to dock tomorrow. What would happen then? The captain had mentioned a change in course. Was that to the destination she thought she was going to, or away? What would happen when they didn’t dock on time, and the children, understandably impatient, started asking questions? What would happen when they finally did dock?

Ursa had never felt so trapped by the ocean, and never had she dreaded leaving it so much.

The waves continued to toss the ship around. Thunder boomed and the ship creaked and groaned. It sounded as if angry ocean spirits were throwing the tantrum that Ursa herself so wished she could indulge. That mental image almost made her laugh. She couldn’t help but think about the stories her grandmother used to tell. She remembered sneaking out past her bedtime to watch the stars, and her grandmother joining her with a conspiratorial wink. She’d tell her the stories of the figures traced out in the night sky, tales of heroes who fought evil and the spirits that aided them on their journey, should the hero listen to them.

Here in this moment, Ursa wondered if there were any spirits that would come to her help if she called. Surely whatever the ocean might demand would be better than being dragged back to Ozai.

The ship lurched and the storm grew in fervor. The movement caused her to stumble, and Ursa had to readjust her stance to maintain her footing. The lantern swung on its hook, throwing dizzying shadows across the room. Somewhere, she heard the sound of something snap, but she had no way to know if that was more thunder, or the ship coming apart. A more primal fear rose in her.

This was the kind of storm that sailors and island dwellers alike were warned about. The kind of storm that downed trees and trashed roofs and had the men of her village scrambling for the least damaged boats when it finally cleared so as to search for the few sailors unlucky enough to have been caught in the storm, but lucky enough to have survived. The kind of storm that left her stranded on Ember Island when it rolled in earlier than expected, leaving her family holed up in the beach house, little Lu Ten doing his best to entertain his younger cousins while Ursa scrambled to figure out a way to get a message back to the capitol explaining their absence since even the Fire Nation Navy didn’t dare attempt a journey until it passed. This was the kind of storm that an experienced sailor should have known better than to risk encountering.

There might be more pressing worries than whatever was waiting for her at the shore.

The ship listed. She waited for the tossing of the waves to bring it back upright, as it had before. It didn’t. She heard a commotion outside, the sound of running footsteps, rushing past.

“We’re taking on water,” a voice announced, barely understandable over the sounds of the storm.

It wasn’t aimed at her, but she took it as her cue to act. 

* * *

For the second time in less than a week, Ursa shook her children awake as she gathered up their belongings. They moved through the halls with much less stealth this time. The tossing of the ship and the slanted floors made it difficult to keep a steady footing. Still, they made it to the upper decks.

The rain poured down in heavy sheets, making it hard to see as they emerged into the storm. A dull glow from the opposite end of the ship showed the ship’s mast, or the splintered remains of what was left of it, smoldering, the driest parts of the wood starting to flare into full flame even in the downpour. She scanned the rest of the deck. There. Illuminated briefly by a streak of lightening, she spotted the ship’s lifeboats. Not that the small boats seemed all that safe, given the circumstances, but, well, this ship was going down anyways. She might as well get a head start.

Another flash of lightning illuminated a figure standing between Ursa and her destination. She stopped short. Lee.

“Now, now,” he said. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Lee looked different, Ursa noted as another flash of lightning illuminated the deck, and she got a better look at him. Gone was any chance of mistaking him for a simple sailor. He stood tall, poised. He wore an armored breastplate that reflected the warm glow of the flickering fire. By his side, he held a bow, strung and ready.

Ursa nodded towards the lifeboats. “I’m getting my children to safety.”

“No,” Lee countered. His opposite hand hovered by a full quiver at his side. “You’re not.”

“The ship’s going down. I need to get them off.”

He still didn’t move, and Ursa was afraid to take a step closer to him.

“I know exactly what you’re trying to do. Hand over the children.”

“Mom? What’s—” Zuko quietly asked. Ursa didn’t answer him, just pushed him and his sister further behind her back.

“Enough of this, Ursa. The Fire Lord sent me with a message. You know full well the children were never part of this deal. Luckily for you, he is feeling merciful. Hand over the children, and you can still leave, just like the two of you discussed.”

Azula squirmed out of Ursa’s grip, pushing herself forward. “Grandfather sent you?”

“No, child. Sadly, your grandfather is dead.” He reached out his hand, beckoning the girl towards him. “Your father sent me to bring you home.”

Everything erupted at once. Azula took a step forward. Ursa lunged to grab her. The stalemate broken, Lee notched an arrow, pulling back his bowstring and taking aim. Zuko, seeing the danger, took a stance of his own, a flicker of flames called forth as he moved.

Lee’s hand released the arrow, a weak flame pushed forward from Zuko’s palm, and Ursa’s fingertips brushed against Azula’s collar. And at the same moment, the largest wave yet crashed over the deck of the ship, knocking everyone off balance and disrupting their actions as the water overtook them.

* * *

As the rush of water carried her over the side of the ship, Ursa distantly wondered if somehow the spirits had indeed heard her earlier prayers. If this was the ocean’s way of rescuing her in her moment of need. But as she tumbled through the water with no sense of direction, she remembered that the stories of the ocean spirits that her grandmother used to tell her late at night as they watched the moon glint off the sea did not originate in the Fire Nation, but with the Water Tribes. And as sheltered as she was within the palace walls, she knew there had been attacks at the South Pole. Though she had avoided the more grisly details, she knew that the Children of the Ocean suffered at the hands of the Fire Nation. She remembered how the stories her grandmother told spoke not just of the ocean’s provision, but also its fury.

As Ursa’s lungs began to burn, she realized that maybe her family had no business looking for mercy on the water.

And then her head crested the waves, and such coherent thoughts were thrust away by the struggle to keep from being consumed by the ocean once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the storm symbolic, or am I just craving a good rainstorm that doesn't turn into snow?


	8. Flotsam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the last cliffhanger. I make no promises I won't do it again.

Ursa gasped for air with a desperation that spoke to the uncertainty of each next breath.

Waves crashed against her, pushing her down as she continually clawed her way back to the surface. The storm’s fury made keeping her head above water for more than a few seconds at a time impossible. Her arms flailed, searching for something that might keep her afloat. Her hand brushed against something floating. It slipped away, but she pushed towards it, finding it solid and wooden. It was a barrel, probably part of the cargo that had washed overboard with the wave that knocked them off. She gripped it, pulling herself up onto its curved surface.

She scanned the water. Zuko, Azula—where were her children? With her head now above the water, she desperately searched for some sign of them, calling their names in the hope that her voice wouldn’t be drowned out before it could reach them. Visibility was low. The sheet of rain blurred her vision and the cresting of the waves around her kept blocking her line of sight. The only thing she could see with any consistency was the looming form of the ship above her. With each flash of lightning, the activity onboard the ship was illuminated. Stark silhouettes of the crew scrambled across the deck as they tried to save the listing ship. Another flash, streak blindingly close, and the main mast was hit by lightning. Underneath the boom of thunder was the cracking of wood as the mast snapped. Ears ringing, Ursa braced herself against her buoy as the mast careened into water, sending out swells that tossed her further away from the sinking vessel.

As the barrel resteadied after the sudden propulsion, Ursa pulled herself higher upon it, hoping for a better view. The wood shifted under the weight change, nearly throwing her off. She grasped at the wood, trying to keep ahold of the one thing keeping her from sinking back under the water. Her fingers brushed against a symbol pressed into the wood. It looked vaguely familiar, in her brief glance, but she had bigger things to consider than the contents of the container keeping her afloat. Namely, the sound of a voice, straining over the noise of the storm.

“Mom?”

She called back, “I’m here. I’m coming.”

She didn’t hear a reply.

She kicked, propelling herself in the direction she (hoped) the voice had called from.

She cast a glance back at the ship. There, standing at the railing, was the archer. She watched him gesture to one of the sailors, whose hand sparked to ignite the arrow grasped in his hand. He nocked the arrow.

Ursa was momentarily baffled by the thought that he would try to set aflame a target in the middle of both a storm and an ocean.

He pulled back the bowstring in a smooth, practiced motion. He aimed in her direction.

Ursa ducked down behind the barrel as best she could without losing her grip on it altogether. She hoped that even he, almost certainly one of Ozai's famed Yuyan archer, would not be able to hit a small, concealed target tossing as erratically as she was. Her cheek pressed against the wood, right at the imprinted symbol she had noticed earlier.

And she recognized it. It was a symbol of warning, of destruction, of danger. She remembered the words she overheard between the captain and the archer, and she suddenly knew what kind of cargo this ship transported.

She pushed herself away from the barrel right before the arcing arrow met its mark.

The barrel of blasting jelly exploded.

Ursa tumbled through the water as blast threw her back. The force not enough to knock her unconscious, thankfully, but it did leave her disoriented, unsure of position or direction. Her lungs burned, any air left over from her last breath forcefully expelled by the shockwaves. She forced her eyes open, stinging at the salt, but could see little in the near darkness.

Ursa felt small and alone as the darkness crept further in around her.

Then… _there!_ A muted flash of light as lighting illuminated the sky, and she knew which direction was up. With the last of her strength, she flailed towards it, limbs sluggish, but _just enough_ to let her emerge, coughing and gasping, at the surface once more.

Someone was calling for her again.

She swam towards the sound, diving underneath the water to avoid the worst of the debris. As she bobbed, she kept calling back, praying that the calls would not stop this time, that she wouldn’t get off track.

Finally, she made it. Zuko’s voice changed from panic to relief as he spotted her. Both he and Azula clung to a large chunk of wood, maybe a piece of mast, but thankfully nothing that could be holding any surprises like the barrel had. They looked dazed and scared, but they were alive and here, and she pulled herself up alongside them, she grabbed onto them with a determination that nothing would pull them from her again.

She caught one last glimpse of the ship, washed in the gentle glow of a crackling fire, as it drifted further and further away, before the ocean finally pulled them out of sight.

* * *

Dawn had broken by the time they washed up on the shore. So had the storm, giving way to patchy clouds that seemed slower to disperse. Ursa wasn’t quite sure when exactly that had happened. Things had blurred since she spotted the shoreline, all focus consumed by the need to keep moving forward towards the distant patch of trees, the rocky shoreline, the nearing stretch of sand. They’d pushed forward, muscles cramping, extremities numb, but _moving_ nonetheless, and they’d made it.

The three laid sprawled out on the shoreline as the lapping waves pulled the chunk of wood back into the ocean like some sort of strange offering.

A ray of sunlight broke through a gap in the clouds, shining onto Ursa’s face and snapping her out of her daze. They weren’t done yet.

“We have to keep moving,” she announced. Zuko and Azula groaned in response.

She pulled herself to her feet, beating back the exhaustion. Not yet. She had to make sure they were safe before she could let herself rest.

She offered a hand to Zuko and helped him up as she looked him over. He was a mess: clothes torn, hair nearly pulled from his topknot, sand caked across his body. She couldn’t imagine that she looked much better. More concerning, though, was the gash across his forehead. She reached forward, pushing some stray hairs out of the way to better inspect the wound. He flinched as she brushed the nearby skin, but he stood steady and his eyes focused on her without issue, so she hoped he was spared a concussion. The wound still bled, but slowly, and she hoped it could finish closing with just a bandage. She tore a strip of fabric off of her sleeve and gave it to him with instructions to hold against the wound as she tended to his sister.

Turning to Azula, she found that the girl had gotten up on her own. She was just as disheveled as her brother, favoring her left side slightly as she stood with as much of her usual poise as she could muster. She didn't approach the other two.

“No.”

“What?”

Azula held her head high, chin jutting out in defiance. “No. I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me what’s happening.”

“Azula…” Annoyance crept into her voice. She couldn’t deal with this, not now, not when they were so exposed. Not when her body threatened to collapse if she didn’t keep it moving. “Do we have to do this here?”

“Yes,” said Azula. “You won’t tell me where we’re going. The man on the boat said that Grandfather is dead, and Dad is searching for us. Is that true?”

Even Zuko was watching her expectantly now, waiting on the answers she kept delaying.

“Yes,” Ursa snapped. “It’s true. Your grandfather is dead, and I don’t know where we’re going, just as far away as we can because if that man finds us, he’ll probably kill me. So can we please go somewhere better to discuss this?”

Her words were harsh. She knew they were harsh, but she was so _exhausted_ and so _scared._ Every rustle of the leaves in the brush behind them sent her heart racing, sure that their pursuers had found them. She knew she was getting paranoid, but if she’d listened to that paranoia before, could she have avoided this situation?

“I promise I’ll explain,” Ursa pleaded, voice softening. “Let’s just get a little further from the shore, and as soon as we stop, I’ll explain, okay?”

The scowl didn’t leave her face, but Azula’s shoulder slumped as she acquiesced. “Fine.”

Ursa let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Then Azula took a step forward, and promptly collapsed.

“Azula!” Ursa yelled, this time with concern, as she rushed forward.

Azula was already pushing herself up from the sand, spitting words that Ursa _knew_ she hadn’t picked up from her, or even Ozai for that matter. She’d have to talk to the guards about the kind of language they used around—Oh. Right. Nevermind. Focus.

She crouched down beside her daughter, who had pulled herself up into a sitting position, and was dusting sand off the front of her shirt. Her left leg was stretched out in front of her. The ankle was red and swollen. Azula poked at it and hissed in pain.

“Careful,” Ursa warned, inspecting the injury herself. The ankle was inflamed, but nothing looked out of place, and with a few careful prods, she determined that it was probably just sprained. Hopefully. She tore a long strip from the hem of her ruined dress to fashion a makeshift bandage and wrapped the foot.

With Zuko’s help, she hoisted Azula onto her back, and the three of them set out into the forest.

* * *

She pushed as far into the trees as they could manage, tired as they all were. The day was cool, the canopy of trees blocking out any sunlight that might break through the cloud cover, and their clothes refused to dry. When she couldn’t tell the shivers from the trembles of muscle strain, she stopped.

They found a small clearing, and she lowered Azula onto a fallen log. Zuko sat down beside her. Ursa weighed her options regarding a campfire; the smoke might give them away, but if they didn’t dry off, the night would be miserable. At least if they lit it now, the light shouldn’t be as noticeable.

She looked back at her children, huddled closer together than she had seen them in a long time. She decided they needed the warmth.

She gathered kindling from the immediate vicinity, well aware of her children’s eyes on her as they waited for her explanation. The process dragged until Zuko awkwardly stood and started gathering branches as well, and she realized she had enough fuel for the short time she would be letting it burn. She piled in the center of the clearing, tossing anything that seemed damp enough to create excess smoke. Tired fingers fumbled with a piece of flint before she heard a flustered sigh, felt a brush of heat rush past her, and the kindling lit, surging into a column of flames before settling down into a more appropriately-sized campfire.

“There. We’ve got a fire. Now tell me what’s going on.”

And she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's episode brought to you by WebMD. Obligatory not a doctor note, I ditched that idea way back in my first semester of college.

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing I have ever written was written linearly, including this. Update schedule may be subject to change depending on where I'm at in the story and my personal schedule/ability to focus. I have an outline already so I promise this is going somewhere.
> 
> 1/29: I'm done pretending that I have any sort of regular update schedule. I do have some mostly written chapters from close to the end of the fic that I'm really eager to get to, so don't worry about me giving up on this!


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